


Petulance (Among Other Things)

by Culurien



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Humor, Ignoring whatever the hell is gonna go down in Endgame, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pepper thinks he's being a little shit, Smut, Stephen thinks he's acting like a child, The whole Thanos debacle is over and everyone's saved, Tony is bored and frustrated, conferences away from home, sappy mutterings in the dark, what am i doing shit guys tagging is harder than it looks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 00:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18399866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culurien/pseuds/Culurien
Summary: Tony’s stuck going to a conference—against his will,thank you very much—and Stephen’s not even coming with him. He’s all alone. Abandoned.Unloved.Melodramatic. Possibly. Just a tiny bit.—A conference. A storm. A warmth.





	Petulance (Among Other Things)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello? I suppose I exist now. We’ll see how well this goes. Hope you enjoy! It’s a bit of a mess. What can I say. I tried. (◕‿ ◕ )♡

“I don’t see why I have to be there,” Tony insisted, bordering on petulance.

Pepper sighed over the phone. _“Let me remind you that I run this entire company—”_

“And that’s exactly why I don’t understand why _I_ have to be there.” Tony cut in.

_“—and I don’t have the time to sit here and listen to you complain about the same frivolous, inane topic—”_

“Frivolous? _Inane?”_ Tony sounded scandalized.

_“—for the fifth time! I’ve already explained to you, I need to be in London tonight, so I need you to be in—”_

“There is nothing trivial about what I’m saying! I saved the _entire universe!_ I’d like to think that earns me at least _one_ get-out-of-jail-free-card on these ridiculous, boring conferences.”

_“—Stockholm, because unlike your magical boyfriend, I cannot—”_

“I mean these conferences were exactly what I was looking forward to avoiding when I named you CEO!”

_“—exist in two places at once!”_

“Heh, yeah, he’s pretty good at that, isn’t he.” Tony smirked to himself, getting a far away look in his eyes.

_“I don’t want to know.”_

“I mean it’s one thing to—”

_“No, Tony, stop. I’m asking you one favour. Cover this conference. You wanted back in, you can do this one thing. Please.”_

“I wanted to continue, you know, designing the technology that is going to literally save the planet and protect it from future genocidal aliens, but if you _really_ think sitting on a panel of boring, _uneducated_ —”

_“I’m hanging up. It’s not like you’re going to pay attention anyway, so just sit there and design your technology quietly.”_

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! I can do that from the comfort of my own—”

_“You will go to the conference, you will sit there politely, you will answer their questions in the least abrasive manner you can manage, and you will not make me regret any of this.”_

“Make me.” Yeah, that was a little whiny even for him.

_“Good-bye, Tony.”_

There was a click, and she was gone. Tony groaned and rubbed a hand up his face, pulling off his glasses and setting them down on the ledge next to his seat.

“Another hour until we land, boss,” FRIDAY chimed in helpfully.

“Great. Just fucking great. Remind me why I’m doing this again, FRI?”

“Records indicate that Ms. Potts requested your assistance.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“A new text from Ms. Potts, boss. Should I read it for you?”

“Go ahead.”

_“I swear, Tony, if you mess this up for me, I’ll make your life a living hell.”_

“And how exactly would you manage that?” Tony shot back, indicating for FRIDAY to respond via text.

FRIDAY read back the response.

_“I’ll tell Stephen where your super secret caffeine stash is.”_

Tony gasped.

“You wouldn’t.”

_“Try me.”_

“He already knows,” Tony bluffed. He actually wasn’t so sure on that front. On the one hand, Stephen had been limiting his caffeine intake and forcing him to supplement it with—god-forbid— _actual sleep,_ but on the other hand, the caffeine stash had yet to be raided and _burned,_ so maybe he was flying clear. So far.

_“You wanna bet?”_ FRIDAY read out.

Tony was silent.

“Do you want me to respond?” FRIDAY prompted after Tony failed to provide her with adequate orders on how to proceed.

“Nope.” He was quiet for a moment. “Actually, find a gif of Pikachu giving the finger and send that back.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Tony nodded, satisfied.

Stephen would probably withhold sex if he found out about the stash. That would suck. Or even worse, he’d crack down even harder and Tony would never get his fix. He’d have to start synthesizing caffeine and injecting it directly into his veins like some crackwhore. Stephen couldn’t stop him from doing that… could he?

As if on cue, his phone began buzzing. Stephen always did have a strange _(hah)_ talent for perfect timing.

“Hello darling, my dear, the love of my life,” Tony answered smoothly.

_“What did you do?”_ Stephen sounded resigned, like he didn’t even want to know and really wasn’t sure why he was asking at all.

“What makes you think I did something?”

_“You become excessively adoring when you don’t want to be yelled at.”_

“That’s not true. I’m always nice.”

_“And when you want sex.”_

“Hm, you think you could portal over, _babe?”_

_“No. Don’t call me babe.”_

“You love it.”

_“Weird. See, here I thought I actually didn’t and that was why I constantly tell you to not.”_

“Nope, pretty sure that’s your manly way of saying, keep calling me babe, and throw in some sugars, honeybears, and sweetnesses while you’re at it.”

_“As fascinating as your interpretation of the English language always proves to be, that’s not actually why I called you.”_

Tony frowned. Pepper wouldn’t. She wouldn’t dare _._ Not until _after_ Tony fucked up her conference.

“Go on,” Tony prompted.

_“Peter got suspended.”_

His previous worries suddenly seemed inconsequential.

“He _what?!”_

_“He got suspended and didn’t want to pull his aunt away from work, so he came here.”_

“He did what now?! FRIDAY, turn this plane around, we’re—”

_“Cute, Tony. Not going to be that easy to skip the conference.”_

“Peter is embroiled in an academic scandal of great— _nay_ —the _highest_ significance, and you want me to go to Stockholm?! He could’ve punched a kid! This will go on his permanent record! What if he set something on fire? Or even worse, forgot to do his homework! Stephen, his academic career could be in tatters! I have to—”

_“He did nothing of the sort. He missed a couple days of—”_

_“What?!”_ This time Tony was genuinely bordering on upset.

_“He was patrolling the neighbourhood, saving lives, what have you, and they suspended him.”_

“He was playing Spiderman, missed class, and got suspended?” His voice began seeping into confusion. “Did they suspend him for the Spiderman thing, or…? Because if they’ve discovered his identity, then I definitely have to turn this bird around.”

_“No, he just got suspended for missing class.”_

Tony squinted, brow furrowing, as he tried to work that one out.

“He missed class.” Tony repeated, seeking confirmation.

_“I do believe I just said that, yes.”_

“So they’re making him miss more class. By suspending him. From class. For missing class.”

_“Yeah, see, I was waiting for you to get there. I have an issue with that as well, but I’m not entirely sure what I’m meant to do about it. Hence calling you.”_

“Light his ass up.”

_“Who, Peter?”_

“No, the principal. Headmaster. Education manager. Whatever the hell they call them these days. I’ll tear Peter a new one myself when I get back.”

_“Unlike you, I prefer to keep my identity under wraps. I do not actually require the direct love and affection of the world in order to do my job.”_

“You think they’re warm and affectionate? God, what was your father like. They want to string me up. Still. After I saved all their asses. _Again.”_

_“Bit off topic, no? Save the woe is me speech for later?”_

“Ok, but I’m serious. Someone should go have a word with his principal. This is ridiculous.”

_“Sure, I’ll just waltz in there, a disgraced—possibly dead, definitely missing—neurosurgeon with absolutely no connection to Peter whatsoever and demand they rectify their transgressions. That makes perfect sense. Exactly why we let you do all the planning.”_

“But that’s exactly why I should come back!”

_“No, that’s exactly why you have a phone.”_

“You want me to… call them?”

_“Obviously.”_

“…Fine. In the meantime, give Peter a bit of your mind, yeah? Do your scary light show, make your voice go all dark and stern. The _‘you will regret the day you were conceived’_ voice.”

_“I don’t do that.”_

“Yes you do. Don’t lie. I’ve seen it, babe.”

_“Again with the—”_

“Make him cry.”

_“No, Tony.”_

“I was joking. I don’t actually want him to cry. Just, you know, make him piss himself a little.”

_“He’s out of place. He just spent the better portion of the last month in space, fighting an extraterrestrial menace intent on destroying half the galaxy. You can’t blame him for getting restless.”_

“Well, technically he spent the better part of the last month as, well, _sand._ I was the one doing the fighting and the universe saving.”

_“God, Tony—”_

“Hey, what do they always say? You can either laugh or cry about it. Personally, I’ve never been much of a crier.”

Stephen was silent.

Tony continued, unperturbed. “I’ll call the school, you can give him snacks and tell him he’s a good spiderboy, and when I get home, I’ll be the bad guy, _like always,_ and whoop his ass.”

_“Tony—”_ Stephen started again, voice concerned.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go easy on him. I’ll tell him he’s great but he’s gotta go to class. I don’t know. I won’t make him cry, promise.”

_“That’s nice,”_ Stephen remarked dryly. _“Enjoy Stockholm.”_

Tony groaned miserably. “You sure you can’t just portal over here for a minute? I swear I won’t need long.”

_“Flattered as I am by your proposal,”_ Stephen muttered, his amusement clear, _“I have to look after your suspended child.”_

“Who’s fault is that.”

_“…Peter’s?”_

“No. Yours. Because you won’t let me come back and deal with it. And Pepper’s. For sending me away. Or I’d be there right now to deal with it and you wouldn’t have to, and we could have sex.”

_“You are incredible, you know that?”_ Tony had the sense incredible was not in fact Stephen’s first choice of word in this particular instance.

“So I’ve been told,” He replied airily.

_“Have fun.”_

“Will not.”

_“Fine, don’t then.”_

“Love you.” Tony smiled.

_“Love you too. Stop being melodramatic and do your job.”_

Tony groaned again with unnecessary volume to convey just how poorly he held that sentiment in regard.

Stephen hung up and Tony was left to sit there, slouched in his seat, staring out the window, calculating just how much shit-fuckery he was willing to tolerate for the sake of blessed caffeine.

“Course change, boss?” FRIDAY asked.

“Nope. We’re going to Stockholm, baby girl.”

 ∞∞∞

The conference was exactly as awful as he thought it would be, and even more so. It was long. It was terrible. It was a waste of his brain cells.

But Pepper ought to be proud. He didn’t say one bad word the whole six hours he’d been sitting there, and he’d only had one mini-rant about how intellectually inferior everyone in the room was to him, and why they’d never understand the basic principles of wiping their own asses, never mind his thought processes, so why did they even bother questioning his methods when they couldn’t even grasp what those methods were? Really, a mini-rant. He’d reeled it in. Truly.

Unfortunately, Pepper and he didn’t always see eye-to-eye, and this was yet another one of those instances. She was definitely not proud.

_“Really, Tony? You couldn’t even hold it together for one, tiny little conference?”_

“Hey, you sent a wolf into a field of unevolved amoebas. What did you expect to happen? I’d say this was a startling success, considering how horribly it could have gone. I could’ve said a lot worse.”

_“I saw the clip, Tony. He asked you a very basic, inoffensive question.”_

“He asked me my five year plan.”

_“Exactly.”_

“Where the hell does he get off questioning what I’m going to be doing five years down the road.”

_“Tony—”_

“No, seriously. What is _he_ going to be doing? Reheating day-old pizza and watching reruns of Storage Wars, probably. None of these inbred assclowns have the right to question—”

_“It was a question panel!”_

“Yeah, and you can fire the moron who came up with _that_ idea.”

_“It’s not our conference. We’re guests!”_

“So? I’m sure you can still fire them.”

_“God, Tony, you are infuriating. If you screw up tomorrow—”_

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow, as in... the flight-back-home tomorrow?”

_“Tomorrow, as in second part of the conference tomorrow.”_

“What?!”

_“If you’d actually bothered to read the itinerary I sent you—”_

“Why would you send me an itinerary?! You know I don’t read those! You should have just—”

_“Because I am running a multi-billion dollar company and I don’t have time to hold your hand! Christ, Tony, I ask you for one favour and you can’t even do that!”_

_“Fine._ I’ll be nicer tomorrow.”

_“I’ll believe it when I don’t see a new addition in your damage control file.”_

“You have a damage control—you know what, stupid question. Of course you do.”

_“Please play nice tomorrow. It’s the last day you have to be there. Don’t mess this up for me. Please.”_

“Yeah, yeah. I won’t throw sand at the other kids anymore, I promise.”

Pepper sighed resignedly. _“Honestly. I don’t know why I expected anything else from you.”_

“Because you’re ever the optimist,” Tony suggested sarcastically.

_“You are exhausting. Good night, Tony.”_

“Night, Potts.”

Tony hung up, or Pepper hung up, or someone hung up. He wasn’t paying attention. He dropped the phone on the mattress next to him and pulled off his glasses to throw them aside as he unceremoniously dropped himself face-first into the pillows and let out a loud, long, frustrated groan.

“Fuck my life,” he muttered, voice almost completely muffled.

“Incoming call from Love Muffin,” FRIDAY informed him.

Tony’s head shot up off the pillows.

“Answer.”

_“Why is it so terribly difficult for you to execute simple tasks without blowing them completely out of proportion,”_ Stephen asked rhetorically, his voice emanating loud and clear from the phone.

Tony’s head dropped back into the pillows.

“And here I thought you were going to say something nice to me.”

_“What?”_ Stephen couldn’t hear a word he said.

Tony lifted his head and pushed himself up, leaning over to scoop up his phone. “I said, and here I thought you were going to say something nice to me.”

_“Like you said to that poor bastard at the conference?”_

“...How did you—”

_“Pepper sent me the link. YouTube loves you.”_

“Of course she did,” Tony sighed, “And I’m gonna stop you right there, doc. She already talked my ear off, so you can skip this particular lecture.”

_“That’s not what I was calling about anyway. Tony, why did you purchase the school.”_

“What?” Tony had completely forgotten he’d done that and it took him a moment to recall exactly what Stephen was going on about.

_“I asked you to sort things out with the principal, not to diversify your interests and invest in educating the youth. Though I can see how those two statements would sound similar to you.”_ Stephen did not see that, not at all, as his tone clearly indicated.

“I called the school and the principal was being an ass, so I found a creative solution to the problem at hand.”

_“You bought the school, named it after yourself, and are currently having top Japanese chefs flown in to cook full time.”_

“The cafeteria food looked shitty. No one deserves _hot dog soup.”_ Tony pulled a face. “And besides, you left out the important part. I unsuspended Peter.”

There was silence on the other end.

Tony tapped his phone curiously. “Sweetheart? You still there?”

Finally, Stephen sighed. _“Yes, Tony, I’m still here. I’m attempting to decide how best to proceed in this conversation without using the words ‘moron’, ‘unstable’, and ‘nutjob’ too frequently.”_

“Well I’d be down for a different kind of job if you wanna just pop over here.”

Silence, again.

“Oh come on. That was funny.”

_“Not your best work,”_ Stephen replied easily.

“So that’s a no then.”

_“No.”_

“It would literally be so easy for you to do.”

_“Peter’s decided to spend the night and hide from his aunt’s wrath.”_

“So leave him alone for a minute. Wong’s there.”

_“Wong’s busy. I will not leave Peter alone in the Sanctum. I have no doubt in my mind he will trigger some form of the apocalypse whilst burning the place to the ground.”_

“Ye of little faith.”

_“Ye of little patience,”_ Stephen retorted affectionately.

“I’ve got to be here for a whole ‘nother day. One more day of this clusterfuck, Stephen.”

_“It’s not nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be.”_

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have to attend these things anymore. You can’t tell me you actually enjoyed them.”

_“They had their moments.”_

“Liar. You despised them.”

_“Then come home. Ditch the conference and come back. You’ve been there for a day, I doubt that many people expect Tony Stark to actually stick around for part two.”_

“…I can’t.” Tony glared at the ceiling.

_“You can’t?”_ Stephen was intrigued.

“Duty to the company and all that. Favour to Pepper. Pinky promise. No double-crossies.”

_“Tony,”_ Stephen commanded, probably a little more harshly than he needed to. It sent shivers down Tony’s spine.

“Yes, daddy?” He answered, faux-innocence plastered on his voice.

_“Cut the crap. What’s going on?”_

“Absolutely nothing. That’s the problem. This is the most boring 48 hours of my life.”

_“Do I have to come over there and yank the answer out of you.”_

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along!”

_“Tell me what’s going on.”_

“Come here!” Tony was getting more annoyed as the conversation progressed.

_“Stop acting like a child,”_ Stephen insisted, refusing to raise his voice.

“Stop being so stubborn!” Tony threw back. “I don’t understand why you’re being such a _dick_ about this! It would take you literally all of four seconds to get off your ass and come over here so I don’t have to sit in this stupid room, in this stupid, cold city all by myself!”

_“I already told you, Peter—”_

“Is a big boy! He helped take down the biggest, meanest tyrant this universe has seen to date. I’m sure he can handle a little alone time without bringing about the biblical end of times.”

_“You’re being completely unreasonable and I will not come to Stockholm simply to subject myself to more of your irrational, poorly placed vexation.”_ Stephen’s voice seemed calm, but as well acquainted with his mannerisms as Tony was, he could quite easily discern the building frustration that lay beneath Stephen’s words.

“Yeah, well, Pepper’s gonna tell you where my caffeine stash is if I don’t stay,” Tony spat back.

_“Your what?”_ Stephen’s voice was low and quiet. Tony grimaced. Maybe not his best decision. _“Tony, I swear to Vishanti, if you don’t start seriously looking after your health I will personally—”_

“What? Ignore me and leave me to suffer in a foreign country halfway across the world? Oh, whoops, _you’re already doing that.”_ It was a feeble, petulant remark, but Tony stood steadfastly by it.

_“Do you think this is funny? Do you think I enjoy worrying about how much longer you’ve got left to live in that body before you completely wear yourself down and utterly destroy yourself beyond the point of no return?”_ There was an edge beginning to poke through Stephen’s voice. His calm demeanour was rapidly giving way to the rising fury that hid beneath.

“Now who’s being dramatic,” Tony retorted, not oblivious to the rising tensions in the situation and purposely stoking the fire. Tony was pissed. He was going to say what he thought, and if Stephen had an issue with that, _too bad._

_“Tony, you are not a machine. You are a living, breathing, human being and I swear if I have to sit your ass down and force you through a basic biology and human physiology lesson, I will do so gladly—”_

“It’s _just coffee!_ Chill out!”

_“It’s not just coffee! It’s heart disease, significantly increasing risk of cancer from lack of sleep, malnutrition, chronic stress—”_ Now Stephen’s voice was _really_ beginning to rise.

“Thank you, WebMD.”

_“I’m just getting started. You think this is a fucking joke?”_

“No, it’s not a _fucking joke._ But it’s also _my_ fucking life, Stephen. If I want to have a coffee, I’m going to have a coffee. If I get on a roll and stay up all night, too bad, so fucking sad, I’m gonna stay up all night! You can’t just _portal in here_ and _change_ —”

_“I apologize for being invested in your wellbeing. Clearly my desire for you to make it past fifty-five is so incredibly selfish—”_

“Don’t start with me, Mr. I’m Just Going To Pop Off and Let An Inter-Dimensional God Kill Me Fifty-Thousand Fucking Times.”

_“That’s not even remotely relevant to this conversation.”_

“Well, I think it is!”

_“You do not! You simply don’t want to admit that maybe you’re not the best at looking after yourself, and maybe someone else’s input, someone who has a fucking medical degree I might add, might be useful.”_

“I am a grown ass man! Stop treating me like I’m four! Look after yourself and stop getting _up in my fucking business.”_

Tony ended the call and chucked the phone across the room at the couch. Stephen was right. He wasn’t denying that to himself. Tony’s health habits were non-existent. It really was a miracle he hadn’t already dropped dead.

He just didn’t like being constantly reminded of that.

And if there was one thing Tony really fucking hated, it was being told what to do. Or rather, what he couldn’t do.

No, Stephen was completely right and Tony was just miserable, frustrated, and looking for a fight.

He chuckled at himself humourlessly. _Looks like you got your way, jackass,_ he thought to himself, _Enjoy the fight?_

He needed some air.

It was only after he got outside that he realized it was still kind of snowing and he was wearing exactly no jackets. Genius.

Determined to prove to the universe that he was a _man,_ and _goddamnit,_ _he could look after himself,_ Tony refused to turn back and began his brisk walk down the side of the road.

His world was blissfully silent thanks to the lack of phone or glasses (which had been purposefully left back in the room, next to the unpurposefully left coat). It was already dark out and there wasn’t anyone else on the streets. Quiet. Peace and quiet.

He got out about a minute and thirty seconds before he decided that it was _really_ _fucking_ cold and he regretted all of his life decisions.

Which of course, convinced him that he must carry on. His honour was at stake here. With whom? Who knew. It just was.

Fuck. It was really fucking cold. _Cold as fucking balls._ Where did that expression come from? He had no idea. His balls were getting cold though and that was _not_ a feeling he particularly enjoyed.

He was beginning to truly, properly despise the snow. And the cold. And the wind. And all the other naturey things that seemed to exist solely for the sake of cracking the skin right off of his face.

This was misery in its purest form. He would know. Tony was well acquainted with misery and her many faces.

And just when he decided he’d manned it out enough, he could turn tail and head back to the hotel, there was a faint whooshing sound behind him, and then a second pair of footsteps crunching in that loathsome snow.

He didn’t turn around, didn’t even indicate that he’d noticed. He was still mad. Not really at Stephen, just mad in general. And Stephen was conveniently placed to direct said anger at. What could he say? He had never been the healthiest guy—physically or emotionally.

A thick coat descended on his shoulders after the footsteps caught up, their owner silent. Tony pulled it tightly around himself without protest. Fuck, it was _cold._ He didn’t even bother putting his arms through the arm holes.

Stephen stepped up next to him, already donning a smart jacket and topping it off with a tightly wound scarf around his neck. Bastard even had gloves.

They walked without talking for a little bit longer, Stephen slowing his longer strides to keep in pace. Despite their previous altercation, the silence was quite amicable, not stiff at all.

“Am I that predictable?” Tony finally asked, referring to the storming out of his room—specifically to the storming out of his room into the freezing cold in the middle of wintery Sweden without a jacket.

“Sometimes,” Stephen admitted. “You never exit a building with proper outerwear, for one. And not for lack of it. I’ve seen your closets.”

“What about Peter?” Tony accused.

Stephen shrugged. “Wong’s there.”

Tony huffed in amusement, but refrained from pointing out the irony of the statement.

They were quiet for another beat.

“You know, it has sleeves,” Stephen muttered.

“Really? I hadn't noticed.” Tony didn’t make any move to rectify the awkward jacket hugging that was going on.

“Must I do everything for you,” Stephen sighed, comically put out. He stopped Tony by the shoulder and stepped in front of him, pulling the jacket out of his grasp and manoeuvring it so Tony could slip his arms in like he was meant to. Tony noticed the slight tremor in Stephen’s hands as he held up the coat, waiting patiently for Tony to put it on properly.

It was endearing, in an odd way. Not the tremors themselves, but the fact that they were so Stephen, so distinctly him, always there, a steady unsteadiness. That was the endearing part.

Once he was firmly situated in the jacket, they stood there, watching each other. And just like a cheesy romance, their breaths mingled in the cold air, rising up and away from them as one.

Stephen still had his hands wrapped around the jacket lapels.

“You gonna kiss me, or what?” Tony muttered.

Stephen stepped closer, his hands flattening and resting against Tony’s chest, before sliding up to frame his face. The gloves were leather, and soft. Form-fitted right to his fingers.

And then the gloves were gone, straight into thin air, and Stephen’s fingers rested on his face, cupping his jaw, tracing his cheeks, still finely shaking. Tony leaned into them and brought his hands up to Stephen’s waist, pulling him close.

Stephen let himself be pulled forward into Tony’s embrace. He leaned down slowly until their lips were a hair’s width apart. Tony’s breath was warm against his skin, as Stephen imagined his was against Tony’s.

Tony closed the gap, pressing closer into Stephen and catching his lips in a soft kiss. It was warm—quite a contrast to how the rest of his face felt against the snow and nipping wind. What started out as chaste became more heated as Stephen’s hands slipped from Tony’s face, one to bury into Tony’s hair, tracing his nape, and the other down to push into his jacket, fingers running against his neck, the junction of his shoulder, resting almost against his chest. Tony pulled Stephen’s hips flush against his, the thick layers of coats completely getting in the way, but offering far too much warmth to even consider stripping off. One of Tony’s hands fell down to grasp Stephen’s ass nonetheless. Couldn’t accuse him of not trying.

Stephen chuckled, the sound caught up in Tony’s lips, which quickly turned into a soft, quiet moan as Tony gained access to his mouth, pushing past Stephen’s lips and deepening the kiss.

Stephen’s fingers played shakily with Tony’s hair, carding through it. Tony loved the taste of him, could do this all day. He ate up the little moans he could pull from Stephen, offering some of his own when he ground their hips together the best he could.

Tony pulled away, nibbling at Stephen’s lip as he went and eliciting a low growl from him.

“Whaddya say we move this back to my room, _doc?”_

Stephen quickly glanced about to ensure no one was around before he opened up a portal and stepped Tony back into it, landing them both in his hotel room. It was dark; the lights were off as Tony had left them.

“I think I wanna keep you,” Tony purred.

“As if you have a choice,” Stephen retorted, stepping back to pull off his coat, yanking off his scarf and dropping it all to the floor. Tony belatedly noticed that this was one of those times Stephen had chosen to join reality and not wear his DND cosplay. Tony pulled off his own jacket and barely had time to discard it before Stephen was crowding him up against the nearest wall and leaning back in to press his lips against Tony’s.

“I don’t?” Tony questioned, smiling.

“Absolutely not. You’re stuck with me now,” Stephen informed him.

“Pity,” Tony whispered, kissing Stephen properly. Even so, he let Stephen take control of the kiss, opening under him and following his lead. Stephen nudged his thigh between Tony’s legs, pushing up against him as he ground his own increasingly interested hardness against Tony’s thigh. Tony responded in kind, rocking his hips against Stephen. Both their moans were caught in each other’s lips.

Tony reached out and grabbed at Stephen’s belt buckle, tugging at it in a half-hearted attempt to take it apart. Really, he just wanted Stephen to magic all their clothes away so he didn’t have to deal with any of it.

“Eager, are we?” Stephen laughed.

“You have no idea,” Tony replied, capturing his lips again as he gave up and moved on to Stephen’s shirt, pulling it out of his pants and tugging the buttons apart. Stephen divested Tony of his shirt similarly and pulled him off the wall, walking him back towards the bed and falling on top of him as he toppled Tony onto the mattress.

Tony reached up and grabbed him by the back of his head, pulling Stephen back down and relishing in the feel of skin against skin. He kissed Stephen like it was absolutely necessary to his continued survival that he do so. It was hot, and wet, and he thrust his hips up, rubbing against Stephen, pulling a dirty sound from his mouth. Stephen lost his patience and waved his hand, vanishing the rest of their clothes.

“Move up,” Stephen demanded, breaking away for a moment. Tony obliged, scooting himself up the bed so Stephen could properly lie on top of him, covering Tony’s body with his own. They both gasped as their erections rubbed against each other and Tony bit at Stephen’s lip, before laving it with his tongue. They ground their hips together, breath coming out in harsh pants, like a couple of horny teenagers.

_“Fuck,”_ Tony breathed.

_“Yes, please,”_ Stephen responded. Tony’s hands trailed down Stephen’s back, grasping at his ass and pushing Stephen down into his hips. He exploited the moment of heady rush and flipped them over, rolling on top of Stephen with his legs landing on either side of Stephen’s hips, claiming his mouth again and moaning softly at the feel of Stephen’s tongue slide and curl against his. He thrust his hips down against Stephen’s once more, groaning, before he pulled away and started to trail kisses down his jaw, making his way to his ear to nibble at his ear lobe, pulling another breathy moan from Stephen. _God,_ he loved those sounds.

“Fuck, _Tony…”_ Stephen trailed off, grinding their hips together again, both their stomachs messy with precome.

“Lube,” Tony requested, whispering directly into Stephen’s ear and sending shivers down his spine. He held up a hand to emphasize his point, biting down and sucking on Stephen’s neck and rolling his hips against Stephen’s as he did.

“I can just—” Stephen began, but Tony cut him off, plunging into his pretty mouth again before breaking away and muttering, “I wanna do it myself.” Stephen groaned and one of his hands came up from their perusal of Tony’s body to rest against Tony’s hand as he muttered a quick cantrip.

Tony’s fingers were promptly covered in slick. He loved his magical boyfriend. He kissed him again, hard and fast, before trailing his lips down to Stephen’s chest, moving back as he did and getting his legs in between Stephen’s. His clean hand ran down Stephen’s side, stopping at his navel, and then continuing down to stroke at Stephen’s inner thigh, maddeningly close to where Stephen wanted his touch.

“Stop teasing,“ Stephen complained. Tony bit down on his nipple in response, yanking a moan from Stephen.

“Pillow,” Tony requested, sitting up. Stephen grabbed one from beside his head and handed it down, lifting his hips so Tony could shove it under him, giving him better access. Tony moved back a little further.

“Fuck, Tony, I swear—” He never finished the sentence. It cut short and died on his lips when Tony leaned in and swallowed Stephen down whole.

_“Fuck!”_ Stephen groaned, one hand coming down to slide into Tony’s hair, the other grasping at the bedsheets.

Tony moved then, almost pulling off, pausing to suck at the head and drive the tip of his tongue into his slit before taking him back down as Stephen thrust his hips up with a moan.

“Shit, you’re good at that,” Stephen gasped.

Tony hummed in agreement, sending another shiver down Stephen’s spine. He sucked down again as his slicked fingers moved down to stroke at Stephen’s entrance. Without much warning, he pushed two in right away, twisting his wrist as he went, steadying Stephen’s hips as he bucked under him and threw his head back.

_“Tony!”_ He yelled.

Tony worked him a little, pushing his fingers in and out to the rhythm he bobbed his head at before he began searching around properly inside of Stephen. It didn’t take him long to find it, pushing against Stephen’s prostate over and over as Stephen cried out.

“Fuck, Tony, _fuck me, please,”_ Stephen moaned.

Tony pulled up off his dick. “Not yet.”

“You’re such a _fucking tease,”_ Stephen groaned, voice hitching as Tony began to scissor his fingers apart.

“Pot, kettle,” Tony shot back, licking a strip up the underside of Stephen’s dick as he eased a third finger in. Stephen’s hips were pushing back against his fingers now, seeking something more, something filling.

_“Tony…”_ He gasped, edging on a keen. Tony pulled himself up without removing his fingers, pushing Stephen’s legs further apart with his knees as he leaned down to lick and kiss at Stephen’s lips, catching all those delicious little sounds that fell out every time his fingers brushed against Stephen’s prostate.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so hot,” Tony muttered against his lips, speeding up the movements of his wrist and slipping his pinky finger in alongside. Stephen moaned, pushing his hips down to meet each thrust and pulling a knee up to give Tony more room.

_“Fuck_ me, Tony. _Come on_. That’s enough,” He breathed against Tony’s lips. Tony groaned and slowed his fingers, pulling them out. Stephen felt empty, and he wanted to chase those fingers, take them back up inside of himself, but Tony had better plans.

“Slick me up, babe,” He asked, pulling Stephen’s hand towards his dick. Stephen obliged, summoning up some more magical lube from god knows where and spreading it over Tony’s dick thoroughly. Tony caught his lips again, and this time it was Tony that got surprised and overturned, landing on his back with Stephen’s legs bracketing his hips.

Stephen’s hand stroked up and down Tony’s shaft once more before he leaned down, pressing one hand into the mattress next to Tony’s side as he used the other to line himself up.

“Stephen, you’re fucking beautiful,” Tony whispered, biting down on his own lip in an effort to not grab Stephen’s hips and thrust all the way up into him as Stephen began to sink down slowly. Stephen pushed himself down, taking Tony all the way in and then resting his shaking hands against Tony’s chest, lifting his hips up once only to drop them back down, his jaw dropping as he did and his eyes squeezing shut.

_“Fuck,”_ Stephen breathed, trailing off. He did it again with more force and moaned, biting at his own lip. Tony had enough. He pulled his knees up to get more leverage, planted his feet firmly against the mattress as he grabbed at Stephen’s hips and lifted him up, almost all the way off, before slamming him promptly back down, thrusting up into Stephen’s heat. Stephen’s head fell back and the sounds that tumbled from his lips were positively filthy.

“Fuck, Stephen, god _you’re so hot,”_ He cried out. Stephen met his thrusts eagerly, shifting his hips to change the angle and then crying out when Tony hit his prostate, cries turning into mewling whimpering moans as Tony hit it again, and again, and again.

“Fuck me, Tony…” He gasped out, _“Harder.”_

Tony obliged, driving up roughly into Stephen, picking up his pace. He was steady, one thrust after another, relentless and ruthless.

“Shit, _you’re so tight babe._ Like you’re made for me. You fit me so well, babe, _fuck…_ you feel _so good,”_ Tony groaned, moving one of his hands away to tangle in Stephen’s hair, pulling Stephen down to meet his lips in a sloppy, heated kiss, thrusting his hips up and pounding Stephen’s prostate over and over. “Fuck, _fuck…_ Tony, _I’m close,”_ He gasped out, reaching down to pull at his own cock, but Tony batted his hand away.

“Can you come for me, babe, just from me, in your ass. Can you do that, babe?” He gasped out, punctuating his words with particularly harsh thrusts to make his point. Stephen moaned heavily and dropped his head, hands running up Tony’s chest to grasp his shoulders. His heavy dick leaked and rubbed against Tony’s stomach.

“Come on, babe, come for me, _Stephen,”_ Tony moaned in his ear, rolling his name lewdly. That was enough. Stephen’s yell was caught by Tony’s lips as his nails dug down into Tony’s shoulders. He clamped down on the dick that impaled him, eliciting a heady, _“Fuck!”_ from Tony, as Stephen came all over their stomachs and collapsed on top of him. Tony followed suit after a few more erratic, harsh thrusts, tumbling over the edge with a muttered, _“Fuck, I love you,”_ as he filled Stephen with his come, his hips shuddering to a halt.

Stephen stayed plastered to Tony’s chest, lips mouthing at the crook of Tony’s neck. He moaned softly and bit down as Tony slipped his softened cock from Stephen. Stephen shivered as he felt Tony’s seed begin to run down his thighs. Such a delightful mess.

Tony’s hands ran up and down Stephen’s back, gently stroking him. Stephen kept slowly kissing at his neck, laving at the bruises he’d been sucking and biting in, his own hands moving to shakily caress Tony’s sides.

Finally Stephen pulled away and banished the mess effortlessly with a wave of his hand.

“Fucking wizard boyfriend,” Tony muttered incredulously, but affectionately. Stephen rolled over to curl against his side, resting a hand flat against Tony’s chest as Tony’s arms wrapped around him and held him close. As much as he was used to it now, Stephen still couldn’t help but stare at his hand where it tremored lightly against Tony’s skin.

Tony lifted his arm off of Stephen, catching his line of sight, and grasped Stephen’s hand softly, pulling it up to meet his lips as they brushed gently against Stephen’s knuckles.

Stephen smiled slightly. “Sap,” he muttered.

“You make me one,” Tony muttered back, kissing his hand once more. He held Stephen’s hand up above his own face and watched as their fingers came together to entwine. He looked at their hands a little longer, against the ceiling, before letting them drop back down to rest against his chest, fingers still laced together.

“I’m lost without you,” Tony finally admitted into the dark, his free hand absentmindedly drawing patterns on Stephen’s back.

Stephen’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly. It was really more of a sharp breathing irregularity that spanned about half a millisecond than a proper hitch. Tony Stark wasn’t really one for declarations of vulnerability—neither of them were.

Stephen nuzzled his face closer and pressed a kiss against Tony’s cheek, stealing a second chaste kiss from Tony’s lips when he turned to look at Stephen.

“I’d be ruined if anything happened to you,” Stephen allowed himself to admit in turn.

“News flash. A lot happens to me. Often,” Tony muttered back. Stephen chuckled, pressing in closer and throwing a leg over top of Tony’s, settling in as close as he physically could. Stephen waved his hand and murmured something indiscernible and suddenly the duvet beneath them blinked out of existence, reappearing neatly above them and embracing them with warmth.

“Seriously. You are actually the best,” Tony insisted, turning his whole body towards Stephen, further tangling up their legs and pulling him against his chest. Stephen’s eyes drifted closed. Tony was a little shorter than Stephen, which was slightly exaggerated by the fact that Stephen had moved down to snuggle his face against Tony’s neck, but Tony didn’t really mind. Stephen was warm and _there,_ and cuddled against him in his arms.

“Go to sleep, Tony,” Stephen admonished lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony muttered fondly, living in the moment, taking in Stephen’s features and committing them memory.

“I’ll still be here in the morning,” Stephen insisted, somewhat knowingly. The man was too damn perceptible for his own good. Or, maybe he was exactly perceptible enough for his own good. What with all the magic and know-how and general life wisdom he seemed to constantly spew.

Tony smiled softly and nuzzled a little closer as he tried his best to close his eyes.

Sleeping didn’t come easily to him; it hadn’t for a decade, and for good reason. But Stephen had a way of making it just a little more manageable, slightly more attainable, Tony considered as he drifted off peacefully in Stephen’s embrace—and not for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I hoped you enjoyed my first ironstrange fic. I am madly, head-over-heels in love these two characters and the witty, aggressive, snarky, yet soft and adorable and doting and strange _(hah, why am I like this)_ dynamic they have. These two are just,,,, _really_ cute together.
> 
> Every comment and kudos is really appreciated. Thank you for reading!!


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